Bones v the zombies

When I was a puppy, for those of you that remember that far back, I told you about falling asleep and waking up to be confronted by my first zombie. It wasn’t a real one of course, it was on tv: mom and dad were watching “The Walking Dead”. But I didn’t know and I woke up to see a close up shot of this undead thing staring at me with lifeless eyes. You’ll remember I growled a warning to it which made my family laugh and me a bit embarrassed. Zombies don’t exist, they’re just figments of the imagination of skins like George A. Romero and Mark Tufo…..aren’t they

Ok, well check this story out. In a place called Miami a skin was shot by police as he chewed the face off some other skin. Both of them were in the nip (pardon the pun), that means naked by the way if you’re not familiar with the slang.

The report says that the police told him to behave himself but he growled at them and carried on chewing, eating his nose and eyeballs! yeeeeuch!!! Then they shot him but it didn’t stop him so they carried on shooting until he was killed; what are the odds on the kill shot having to be to the head? Remember the only way to put them down permanently is to destroy the brain or seperate the head from the neck.

This is it, this is how it always starts. The beginning of the zombie apocalypse, be ready, be prepared: you skins are about to lose your place as the dominant species, top of the food chain. I’m going to sit in the front window and guard the house – Bones is prepared, are you?

Bones stuck in the mud

It’s embarrassing but seeing as you are my closest friends I will tell you, I know you won’t tell anyone else.

I was out in the fields with the lumbering Jess and faster than light Alf, we were having a rare old time running about, chasing each other and such like. At the edge of one of the fields is a little ditch; Alf, whose feet barely make contact with the ground as he streaks around, raced through it with me in hot pursuit. As I got to the bottom of the ditch I stopped for a breather. I was slightly confused when the opposite wall, no more than a slight incline, grew by a few inches. Then I realised: it isn’t going up, I’m going down – I was sinking! I tried to run but my feet had disappeared into the mire and my already short legs were shortening even more. I was stuck.

I was panicking a little, not an easy thing for a tough dog like me to admit. What if nobody had seen me go down here, I’d disappear forever in this nasty mud and nobody would be any the wiser. I strained to pull one of my front paws free, every muscle in my shoulder and across my chest taut with the effort, my face scrunched up as I tugged with all my might. With a gloop my front paw came free, but with all the effort I had only succeeded in driving my other 3 paws deeper. The mud was up to my belly and I was out of steam. This was serious, I was going to drown. I pushed down with my one free paw, trying desperately to gain some leverage but it just sank again. I had used up all my energy getting it free the first time, there was no way I could do it again, I gave it a go but there was nothing doing. I delved into my reserves but the tank was empty.

I couldn’t believe it, my end had come, the final moments as such a precious life was about to be extinguished. Not in battle like I expected, protecting my house, defending my friends, fighting the good fight against overwhelming odds; no, my life was about to be taken for nothing by this thick, clinging slop.

I thought about all the things I would miss: my friends, my favourite blanket, my toys, my mom taking me for walks, my dad telling me off but always having a treat in his pocket and a scratch behind my ear, falling asleep on his lap then being woken up because he’s cursing a football player or boxer on the tv. I’ll miss my big sister Jess and my big brother Alf. Heck I’ll even miss the stupid cats; in fact I promised the blue sky above that if I made it out of here I’d be nice to Raffles forever, wow things were desperate!

As I contemplated mortality my thoughts were interrupted by two shadows that blocked out the sun and the sound of laughter. Jess and Alf were laughing at my predicament, I was almost glad to see them. They were joined by mom who reached down and plucked me free from the jaws of death. When she put me down, I lay on my side panting both from exhaustion and relief. Mom said, “come on Bones, let’s get you home.”

When we got home it was straight in the bath for me. Dad wandered in and asked how I’d got in that state. When mom told him he burst out laughing! How could he be so heartless? I nearly died! You wait, I’ll get you for that dad.

They say revenge is a dish best served cold, well I bided my time until the next morning; dad was walking into the living room in his favourite old shorts that aren’t as cosy a fit as when he bought them. Sometimes he has to hitch them up a bit, he likes them though, he feels comfortable wearing them in the house when it’s warm. Dad’s hands were full carrying his breakfast bowl and mug of tea. He was just telling Jess to shift herself so he could get past when I jumped up and gave the hem of his shorts the slightest tug. As he hadn’t got a free hand he couldn’t pull them back up as they slowly but steadily headed south. His cry of alarm as his pink, shiney butt was revealed to the world sent us dogs into hysterics. He stumbled over to his chair like an arthritic penguin and although he cursed loudly enough that I’m sure I would have heard him in my muddy grave, we laughed even louder.

P.S. That bit about being nice to Raffles forever? Erm…..nah….hehehehe


Bones will save the world!

I’m not what you call a paranoid dog but some things I read give me a bit of an itch, a little voice at the back of my underused brain that says: “There’s something not quite right here…” I’m not the sort of dog that is into conspiracy theories, most of them are a bit out there if you know what I mean, although I occasionally look into deep geopolitics (I know, I surprise myself sometimes), I think I’m just a cynical mutt.

This caught my eye this morning: Earth In Crisis As Wildlife Numbers Plummet and straight away I thought “ah, another load of sensationalist garbage.” But then that itch started again, something’s very wrong. I get this feeling that the environmentalists are the biggest threat to the skins on this planet, little snippets surface with some very famous and influential people going on about over-population, that is a very, very scarey concept; what do you do about over-population? De-populate.

Bill Gates is one of the loudest voices out there, the Gates foundation is busily vaccinating millions in Africa against polio. In this short video clip he talks about reducing the population. The vaccinations themselves are not doing what it says on the tin. He’s not a very nice skin if this is true and I’ll leave you to make up your own mind on that.

Al Gore, the champion of global warming, might have been telling a few fibs, read the evidence and decide for yourself.

That loveable rogue Prince Philip The Duke of Edinburgh has stated that if he is reincarnated he wants to return as a deadly virus, I feel sorry for the corgis.

Now I’m not denying that there is a problem with pollution, global warming or climate change or any of the other things that you skins are worried about; all I am suggesting is that there might be some very nasty people who think nothing of doing the most despicable acts imaginable to take advantage of situations. Perhaps there are too many people on this planet but who gets to decide who lives and who dies? What is the criteria that means you get to join the line on the left or the line on the right? Race? Creed? Colour? Credit rating?

I ask one thing, read both sides of the story and make your mind up, you’ve got a search engine, have a look.


It’s not the end of the world dad

Bonesdiary has yet again had to take a back seat as it wouldn’t be possible to pry my dad away from his beloved computer with a crow bar. Today mom was using it to do some geneology research, finding out about her family on her dad’s side. Some of them appear to have gone from a place called Ukraine to a place called Canada, like 100 years ago or something which was before even my dad was born!

Anyway, while mom was tapping away, dad was pacing like a caged tiger, he tired of that and eventually sat down. I could still hear him grinding his teeth from where I was sat watching him. I told Alf that he would be on a diet of soup if he carried on grinding, his teeth would wear down to nothing. Alf said I should take his mind off things by pulling the bottom of his jeans or widdling up his leg. Jess stirred enough to tell me not to bother, just as I was about to make my way over to dad. “He’ll kill you; not just wave a finger and tell you off, not just chase you out of the room, you will cease to exist!” As regular readers of bonesdiary will know, I’m rather fond of being alive, maybe I’ll follow big Jessie’s advice for once.

When mom finished what she was doing she alerted him to the fact that the computer was free. Dad had given up and decided he didn’t want to use it after all. All that moaning for nothing. He went off muttering about she had her own netbook, why couldn’t she use that….whole day wasted…more important things….blahblahblah. Well if you don’t want it dad! While he’s in the kitchen boiling the kettle to make some tea and bearing the weight of the world on his shoulders I’ll nip in and do a quick post – hurray!!! He’ll be back sunshiney and happy once he’s had his fix of tea.

One thing I noticed in the news is that the world is no longer in imminent danger of ending on 21st December 2012. Phew that’s a relief, I loved christmas so much last year that I would be a bit peeved if that was the only one I’d ever get to enjoy. Apparently some excavations have revealed Mayan paintings on the wall of a house in the jungle that date back before this codex thingy that everyone got all worked up about, and it disproves the calender ending/world ending tosh. The calender in our house ends every year but the world keeps spinning and everythings just fine. Read about it here:

Why are skins so negative? They’re always looking for signs that the world is coming to an end: Nostradamus said this and some astral alignment means that, wars and rumours of wars, the bible says the end is nigh. These things that will “come to pass” are the same things that skins have been looking for since they first swung out of the trees. Skins: it’s ok not to worry. Nobody knows how long they’ve got, so why waste this brilliant life with negative thoughts? Enjoy this moment, this now. It’s yours to do what you want with. You get some skins who punish themselves for being alive, ohhh I am so unworthy. Treating yourself like that because you’ll earn a place in heaven makes absolutely no sense, what if there is no heaven? What if this is all we get? What if heaven is here? Then what is the sense of denying yourself?

The way I look at it is, if there is such a place as heaven, the best way to get in is to just be a nice guy and kind to others, no matter who they are. That’s all – you’re in. Oh and by the way, there’s no mention of dogs having souls, so does that mean we’re barred from entering the kingdom? Ah well my friends, I might as well enjoy what time I’ve got left, hopefully way past December 21st.